Home > life, writing > A Time To Fly (7)

A Time To Fly (7)

       “My name is Belinda Lyons,” she said.  She looked at Giuseppi’s profile as he drove.  His nose was a bit large in his handsome, chiselled face and she wondered if it was true what they said about a man’s big nose and big feet predicting that he’d be big in his privates, too.  She knew what they said about black men being large, but her late husband was a big man, but pleasantly average in his sex organ.

       “Belinda, where would you like to go?” he said.

       “I don’t know.  I haven’t eaten for a few hours,” she said.  “Might we go somewhere for something to eat?”

       “I know just the place,” he laughed, and gunned the rumbling Ferrari down the quiet street.  He drove away from the city centre, up a steep road to a smaller road that led off to the right.  Belinda mentally prepared herself to defend herself if this man was taking her into danger.  She was aware of her size and strength, and had a brown belt in Tai Kwan Do, after taking classes for several years.

       “Here we are,” said Giuseppi Guererra.  He turned left between two tall, stone pillars through a heavy wooden gate that stood open.

       “Where are we?” said Belinda, getting a bit nervous.

       “We are at Casa Guererra,” he said.  My home.

       “But I thought we were going to get something to eat,” she said.

       “And so we are,” he said.  “I am a wonderful cook, and I will make you the most fabulous Fettuccini Alfredo that you’ve ever tasted.”

Belinda decided it was too late to start protesting, and she took the measure of Senor Guererra as he led her up the stone walk to the huge, heavy, wooden door.  The moment they arrived at the door, it swung open and a pale, grey-haired woman in housekeeper’s dress stepped aside.

       “Good evening, sir,” she said.

       “Good evening, Anna,” he said.  “This is Belinda Lyons.  I am going to fix her something to eat.  Is the kitchen vacant?”

       “Yes, sir, it is.  Everyone’s asleep.  I was waiting up for you.”

       “Thank you, Anna,” he said.  Belinda thought she caught an angry look in Anna’s eyes when she looked at Giuseppi when he turned his back to her.  “You can turn it now that I’m home.”  Anna turned her gaze on Belinda and boldly looked her up and down.  Her expression melted and became warm and she smiled into Belinda’s eyes.

       “Yes, sir,” Anna said, and openly glared at Giuseppi before she left the room and went up the long, wide, curved staircase.

       “Anna seems a bit upset,” said Belinda.

       “Anna is employed to run the house,” Giuseppi said, “but sometimes she thinks she should run me.”

       “I hope I haven’t caused any trouble,” Belinda said.

       “Don’t give it a thought.  Here, come with me to the kitchen and I’ll fix you a fine late meal,” he said.  Belinda followed him into the large kitchen.  The walls were cut stone, with a large wood-burning oven as well as a gas range.  The refrigerator, freezer, sinks, and stove were all gleaming stainless steel.  Giuseppi Guererra seemed to know what he was doing as he went efficiently around the kitchen preparing the meal.  Within fifteen minutes he placed a plate of perfect linguini Alfredo on the counter in front of Belinda, along with a bottle of fine white wine.

       “Would you like to see the rest of the house?” Giuseppi asked Belinda when she finished her pasta and drained her third glass of the fine white wine.

       “I’d love to,” she said.  “I don’t want to keep you up too late though.”

       “Worry not,” he said.  “Tonight, I have no life but my time with you.”

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